


Dinner

by HotCocoaaa



Series: Snacktime. [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: "We got a lot of food", Five Centric, Five's an alcoholic, Gen, Luther grows up a little too, Luther learns a bit, Scooby Snacks, Sibling Bonding, The hargeeves deal with Five's horror-inducing dietary habits the only way they know how, They don't have HEB there, last part!, of a sort, y'all know tua is set in canada?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:27:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotCocoaaa/pseuds/HotCocoaaa
Summary: Five had noticed the oddest patterns popping up in the last few days.He felt like he’d stepped into an alternate dimension- There were scooby snacks on top of the fridge for god’s sake.“What’s with all the groceries?” Five's tone was rather too close to suspicion for Luther’s taste, given how the man seemed to fidget. “I wanted to apologize to you,”It was nice, he supposed, to be thought about.





	Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Google wanted to auto-correct my butchered spelling of 'groceries' to glaciers.

Five had noticed the oddest patterns popping up in the last few days. 

Sitting at the more casual kitchen table, rather than the stiff, formal expensive one out on decorative display in the dining room, he hunched behind his book like it was a shield, eyes flicking back and forth around the kitchen.

Mom (and wasn’t that weird? To call her Mom again, and have her pat his head lightly every time she passed him as she walked around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients. It was just like she used to do, when they were all just kids and Five would sit down in the kitchen with her while she made dinner)  had called them all, or, the siblings actually in the house, down to eat dinner in half an hour. Five had shrugged and figured he’d finish his latest ‘catch up’ book at the table. 

Now he just felt like he’d stepped into an alternate dimension. 

He hadn’t even noticed at first, really; it had just been a slight off tilt to the room, one he’d overlooked. Even Mom’s quiet but calming humming, nor the words inked on the pages before him could keep the vague yet stark...changes from eventually creeping into the corners of his eyes. 

So now he sat, book standing upright on the wooden table and open, one hand gripping either cover a tad too tightly; hunched like he was expecting an attack, eyes darting wall to wall, corner to corner, deceitful cabinet to deceitful cabinet. 

It could not have possibly just appeared overnight. There was simply just no way it was feasible. 

Not even the Hargreeves kid’s could pull this off, considering who, exactly, they were raised by. 

Grace-  _ Mom _ , made a quiet ‘oh!’ as her elbow accidentally knocked over one of the objects bought with questionable motivation. Five tensed. She chuckled softly, righting the box, murmuring, “silly me,” as she turned back to the re-purposed flower pot that held the majority of the cooking tools they owned. 

Five glared at the once-contraband. 

The damn snack food had showed up in the kitchen  _ overnight _ . And not just a box or two here or there of gushers- oh no. 

The pantry, never before filled with anything other than vegetables, spices and canned goods, was overflowing with snack items. 

It looked like someone had robbed the nearest Nester's Market. 

There were scooby snacks on top of the fridge for god’s sake. 

It had to be a good couple hundred dollars worth of food, and Five had no clue as to _ why it was there.  _ Five hated not knowing why. It was stressing him out- even more so than the listlessness he was still getting over from, after stopping the damn apocalypse he’d been chasing for over forty five years. 

All the snack items had appeared instantaneously- the day directly after all of Five’s siblings had cornered him and demanded to know just why exactly he’d eaten that damn spider. Five could barely even remember eating the spider two days ago. He’d been half asleep when he walked into the kitchen; he’d taken a look at the table, his brain had yelled  _ ‘Food!’ _ at the top of its metaphysical lungs, and he’d done what he had learned to do to survive. He’d eaten the spider. 

Looking back though, he did have to admit how hilariously traumatized everyone had looked. After four decades the shock value sort of wore off. Though, none of the rest exactly had four decades of experience in an apocalypse. 

“Oh, Five, dear?” Grace-  _ Mom  _ called, looking over her shoulder as she added seasoning to what looked like several chicken breasts, pulling Five out of his revere. 

“Mm hm?” Five hummed in response, turning his gaze to watch his mother work. 

“Could you go upstairs and tell your siblings that dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes?” She asked, sending him a smile that, he was learning, was becoming more and more genuine. 

Diego really hadn’t been kidding when he’d declared Grace had hated Reginald as much as any of them, if you could call it that. The very lack of his presence, coupled with theirs, made them all halfway forget she wasn’t truly human. The amount of emotion their mother had exhibited was always somewhat real, but now, she just seemed...so much more. 

Five quirked up a corner of his lip, still agitated by the mysterious appearance of the massive hoard of food. 

“Sure, Mom.”

Grace gave him that blinding smile again. It was nice, to see her looking in her right mind again after the tampering Dad had done. 

Five folded the right corner of his book before closing it with a quiet smack, the plastic cover he hadn’t yet bothered to take off crinkling. Slipping out of his chair, he let the scent and sound of crackling ozone brush his nose as he jumped up to the floor their bedrooms were on, poking his head into every mysteriously empty room as he looked for the others. 

After getting all the way to Alison’s room and  _ still  _ not seeing a single one of his siblings, he started to get weirded out, brows lowering and eyes narrowing. 

This was...unusual. Where was everyone? 

After warping to the laundry room, the dining hall, the living room, and even running through each and every greenhouse on the massive four sided rooftop, he’d found absolutely  _ nobody _ . 

Where the hell  _ were  _ those cretins? 

On top of the roof and watching the sun cast hazy yellow streaks in the sky, painting clouds orange and red as it sunk to a sea of skyscrapers, Five rolled his eyes to the top of his head in exasperation, sighing. In annoyed resolution, he tucked his book a little closer and warped to the library, the last large main room he could think to check.

With a quiet pop Ben used to say reminded him of star trek (or, the four stolen VHS tapes with a grand total of five episodes on them that he’d swiped from a trash can, once, when they were eleven) Five landed quietly on the carpeted floor behind the longest bookshelf. 

With a shake of his head and a mild glare, he peered around the corner to where Dad had always kept a few dark mahogany tables for working on. 

Nobody. 

What the  _ actual fuck. _

In his exasperation, Five lent back into the bookshelf, the hardcovers resting on the shelf behind him shoving backwards.

“Where the hell are those idiots?” He muttered. “There’s literally no way all of them are out of the house, Delores. I mean, two of them can’t even drive- no wait, make that three.” Lowering his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose in disappointment. “Wow, that is  _ pathetic _ .” 

The books did not respond. Five could feel their agreement anyway. 

Slouching forward in the way that Klaus had started calling his  _ ‘old man pose, _ ’ Five swept a weary and suspicious gaze around the silent library. There was no one here.

Not a single sibling, from what he could tell, even in the house. 

“What would those lunatics even get up to, anyway? Where the hell would they go?” He groused, and his mind not-so-helpfully supplied an image of Klaus running through the four way intersection, stolen  _ somethings  _ in his arms as he yelled  _ ‘“Hey bitches!” _ ’

Suddenly, Five didn’t want an answer to that question. 

The sound of an exhaust pipe exploding loudly from the back of the house on the left side (also, consequently, just below the library) had Five jumping slightly, startled. Furrowing his brows, he crept towards the window, hushed yelling spilling through along with the slightly flowing drapes caught in the breeze. 

Getting to the windowsill, he ducked down, peering over the edge with suspicious, curious eyes. 

He almost lost his cover at the sight in front of him. Or, well, below. 

In the alleyway below, there was Diego’s classically old car, and three out of six missing siblings, save for Ben. Though, knowing him, he was probably there too. The strangest thing, though, was the car laden,  _ absolutely filled _ , with groceries. 

_ What in the world was going on? _

“You’re sure this is enough?” Luther’s voice wavered in from below, and Five peered down again to watch the large man lift six reusable bags worth of groceries with one arm alone. 

“ _Jesus_ , _enough_ _he asks_ \- I’m fairly certain this is  _too_ much,” Diego replied, evidently not having funded the expedition. He definitely didn’t sound terribly putout.They’d probably used Alison’s credit card- stolen or otherwise.   

“I just...I want to make it up to him. I...Alison was right. I stepped out of line.” Luther said- Luther said? Five blinked. That didn’t sound like his headstrong brother at all. 

“A little, yeah,” Diego grunted, closing his car’s trunk with a heave of his arms. Klaus, sitting on top of the car’s roof, twirling his foot, nodded in agreement. 

“We get where you’re coming from, Luth, truly, we do. You just tend to….ehh, go overboard?” Klaus offered, tilting his head back and forth and waving his hand in a so-so motion. Five watched Luther frown. 

“Didn’t you threaten Five with Delores, once?” Diego asked, piling grocery bags into his arms, and smacking Klaus on the leg, telling him to “Help already, fool.” Klaus, in a very mature response stuck his tongue out, but hopped off the car roof nonetheless. 

Luther’s shoulder’s tightened. 

“Where’d you hear about that?” He questioned, looking ruffled. 

Diego snorted. “So you did, then.” He pulled his keys from his pocket, and kicked the front door shut lightly before locking it. Talking over his shoulder, he said, “Five got shitfaced drunk about a week after the whole apocalypse estupidez, and let a few things loose. He said that you  _ ‘had the audacity,’ _ if I remember right, to hold Delores out of his window in order threaten him to put down a gun.” Diego looked back to Luther, cocking an eyebrow at the man. 

Luther rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“So I haven’t exactly been the best lately,” he rumbled quietly, and Klaus barked a shrill laugh. 

In the library, Five ducked down from the window, hearing Klaus retort,  _ “oh, like when you thought one of us murdered dear old dad?” _ He quietly groaned, letting his head fall against the wall with a thump. 

He remembered that; He’d been so lost at just what to do that he’d given in and drank an entire two bottles of whiskey, watered down with ice and coke cola- he was pretty positive he’d given himself alcohol poisoning. At some point a few of the others had joined him, though he couldn’t recall who. 

He really should stop drinking. 

“After you, snack-boy,” He heard Diego tease, and Klaus made an indigent sound. 

“Snacking is an art! You barely know how to eat, Mr. My Body Is A Temple!” 

The quiet shut of a heavy door alerted him to Klaus, Luther and Diego’s entrance into the house, and Five breathed in, preparing to jump, not bothering to sit up. 

So there were three of his siblings. Where were the other two? 

Popping into existence on top of the foyer table, sitting cross-legged, Five grinned in smug satisfaction at Luther’s shout of surprise and Klaus mild scream. 

“Stop,  _ doing that! _ ” Klaus exclaimed, one hand pressed dramatically over his heart. Diego heaved a sigh and dropped his hand from his belt, no doubt reaching for a knife. "Hey, Five," He muttered. 

Five smiled, the one that yelled  _ ‘I’m putting up with you,’ _ the dimples on his cheeks curling to create an larger grin than would be normally. 

“Mom said dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes, about thirteen minutes ago.” 

Diego’s eyebrows rose. He whistled. 

“Damn, have we really been gone since lunch?” He asked, turning towards Klaus, who shrugged. Five squinted at Luther, the one with by far the most groceries, and made a show of looking him up and down. 

“What’s with all the groceries?” His tone was rather too close to suspicion for Luther’s taste, given how the man seemed to fidget. 

“Nothing-” Luther cut off with a grunt and an annoyed look to Diego, who had elbowed him in the side. His brothers brown eyes darted from Five, the groceries, and back to Luther in a silent demand before he was walking off to the kitchen, pulling Klaus behind him as he went. 

Five watched them go, a curious look on his face. He turned back to Luther, still sitting cross-legged, hands folded neatly in his lap.

“Nothing?” He parroted, just a touch mockingly, lifting a brow. 

Luther melted a little, like an ice cube on a hot day. He bent down, setting the bags down on the hardwood carefully, before straightening up. In a bold, completely Luther move, he made eye contact with Five. Five raised his other brow. 

“I wanted to apologize to you,” Luther started, tone sincere. Five absently rubbed his middle finger’s nail against his thumb-pad, listening. 

“Since you came back, I’ve acted uhm, well, controlling.” Inwardly, Five curled his lip.  _ That  _ was an understatement. 

“I’ve been insensitive, and it was unfair of me,” Luther continued, somewhat struggling to find the right words. The man sighed. 

“I’m sorry about threatening Delores,” he said, the words tumbling out, and Five sat up straighter. “That- it wasn’t okay. I should have done something else to get you to put the gun down. I’m sorry,” Luther apologized, and Five bristled just slightly even as he took the apology, sincere as it was, and turned it around in his mind. 

“You think ‘sorry’s’ just going to fix that? Really?” He said, incredulous, as he leaned forward. Five knew it wasn’t exactly fair of him, but those few moments Luther had held the love of his life out of his bedroom window by the throat, had been a few of the most terrified Five had felt since his original age thirteen. He could still recall sitting on his bed, just holding Delores, and trying not to shake. 

He’d never particularly wanted to kill any of his siblings before, but in that moment, he had wanted,  _ so badly _ , nothing more than to shoot Luther straight through his forehead. 

Luther clenched his jaw, evidently reminded himself of something, and shook his head slowly. 

“No.” He responded. “I don’t.” 

Five moved one arm to his knee and propped it up by his elbow, resting his cheek in hand. He nodded shortly, eyes just shy of harsh.

“I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you a few days ago, too.” The man murmured, tone softer and more subdued. Luther looked awkward where he stood in front of Five, his littlest older brother, while he attempted to apologize. 

Five tilted his head a little in his palm, lose hair brushing to the side. Luther chewed his tongue for a moment, before he seemed to pull down the words he thought were right. 

“You were obviously reluctant to talk about...why you did what you did, and I pushed you. I’m sorry for that, too.” Absently, he tapped one of the grocery bags with a boot clad foot. “Alison suggested that we stock up the kitchen- so that you don’t feel like you have to keep eating spiders, anymore,” Luther said, and suddenly, the appearance of food clicked in Five’s brain. 

Five blinked. “That's...nice,” He said, surprised, eyes trailing off of Luther to a hundred meter stare, not seeing much of anything at all. 

“That’s...really nice, of you guys,” Five murmured, sounding almost confused. He felt almost confused. 

It had been so long since anyone had done anything nice for him, he’d forgotten, really, what it felt like. 

A smile tugged at his lips, and he met a worried Luther’s eyes. 

It didn't make up completely for all the shit that had happened in the first eight days he'd been back alone, but it was a start. The food was an olive branch, just as much as it was a caring gesture. 

“Thanks,” He said, genuine, “You…Thanks.”

Luther smiled back. 

**Author's Note:**

> The end :)


End file.
